The Franklin Conspiracy Page 6

  If true, the story is astonishing. To specifically pinpoint Victory Point was positively uncanny. As we have seen, Victory Point was the headland which James Clark Ross reached after leaving the rest of his sledge party at Cape Felix on King William Island. More importantly, it would later be found that it was indeed at Victory Point that the crews of the Erebus and Terror had reached the shore after abandoning their ships in the icy clutches of Victoria Strait (Channel).

  How can we possibly explain the improbable accuracy of the ghostly vision given to Anne Coppin?

  Assuming we discount the existence of a real ghostly Weasy, a possibility suggests itself. After all, we have supposed that Franklin’s real mission was to reach Victory Point, to find and study whatever it was James Clark Ross had seen there during Parry’s third voyage and John Ross’ second. Inevitably others must have known about Franklin’s true mission. The Admiralty may have done all it could to keep the real purpose of the expedition secret, but leaks occur. Is it possible that the children’s father, Captain Coppin, had learned of Franklin’s mission through channels of his own? If so, surely he would have known that he could never come right out with his information. Who would have believed him? And what would the Admiralty do if they found out?

  But then Captain Coppin saw another way. After all, though the testimony of blue lights may seem suspect in our time, it bore much more weight with the public of the mid-nineteenth century. Just the year before the Coppin children saw their vision, across the ocean in the town of Rochester, New York, two young sisters ushered in an era of seances and paranormal visitations that, to some extent, has continued to the present day. They were known as the Fox sisters and they claimed to be able to communicate with the dead through “spirit rappings”—quite literally, the spirits used a sort of Morse code to answer the questions of the living. To Captain Coppin, in possession of a terrible secret he didn’t dare openly reveal, the sudden interest in messages from beyond the grave (particularly through the medium of innocent young girls) may have seemed like a godsend. Respected people believed in the Fox sisters, so why not his daughter? It was, after all, Captain Coppin who went to Jane Franklin with this fabulous story. And it was largely owing to this ghostly revelation that Jane Franklin alone sought to search in the correct place, when all the experts assured her Franklin would not be found there.

  Of course, there is no proof Captain Coppin had inside knowledge that he sought to reveal through a fabricated story. But the facts remain: Captain Coppin assured Jane Franklin that the lost expedition would be found at Victory Point, and at Victory Point it was found. If we do not believe Franklin was secretly headed for Victory Point, if Captain Coppin was not possessed of special knowledge, then how else are we to explain his daughter’s vision?

  Ghosts?

  PART II

  By Unworthy Motives

  Outward be fair, however foul within;

  Sin if thou wilt, but then in secret sin.

  Charles Churchill,

  Night

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Deception of James Ross Clark

  What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale

  Make a woman believe?

  John Webster,

  The Duchess of Malfi

  THE ARCTIC COUNCIL

  It was now 1848. The ghost of Captain Coppin’s daughter would not produce her amazingly accurate vision for another two years. The Franklin expedition had been missing for three winters. Already convinced something had gone wrong, John Ross had been fighting since early the previous year, writing letters to the First Sea Lord of the Admiralty, to the Royal Society, to the Royal Geographical Society, even to the council of the Astronomical Society. At every turn, he was told his concerns for the expedition were premature; the Admiralty had consulted its Arctic experts and had no plans to send out a relief expedition.

  Its Arctic experts.

  If there is to be a villain in this story, it is to be found among this extremely exclusive, tight-knit group of worthies. Later they would be known unofficially as the Arctic Council. Sometimes they were simply called the “Arctics”. The membership of this group was never entirely static, although certain names remained fairly constant throughout the years of the Franklin search—notably, John Ross’ nephew, James Clark Ross. How one qualified for membership was fairly vague. Some, like James Clark Ross, had spent time exploring in the Arctic. Others had amassed a sort of honourary expertise though overseeing previous expeditions from the comfort of London. John Ross’ former companion, Parry, was a member.

  John Ross was not.

  He was, in a sense, the father of the modern era of Arctic exploration through that first aborted expedition in 1818. His 1829 (unsanctioned) expedition aboard the Victory had spent four full winters on the east coast of Boothia Peninsula without the loss of a single life—a claim no one else could come close to matching. To the public, John Ross was an Arctic hero in the truest sense of the word. Long after the world had given him up for dead, he had come sailing out of the darkness and the ice aboard the whaler Isabella, as miraculous a comeback as anyone could have asked for. (More amazing still: as if to fully erase the stain on his career left from his first voyage, the ship that rescued Ross and his crew was the same Isabella that he had been sailing when he spotted the imaginary mountain range so long before.) He was as knowledgeable on the topic of the Northwest Passage as anyone could hope to be. Yet, incredibly, he was not included in the sacred circle of the Arctic Council.

  The council acted as the official advisors to the Admiralty. At the same time, their opinions were freely given to Jane Franklin—perhaps too freely. The fact that this group—especially James Clark Ross—had Lady Franklin’s ear, while John Ross most certainly did not, led John Ross to develop an almost paranoid sense of persecution, even the belief in a conspiracy. At one point he wrote: “The individuals most to be pitied . . . were the amiable lady and daughter of Sir John Franklin whose minds had been deceived by the unworthy conduct of their advisors.”1

  Unworthy? Just what precisely was Ross trying to suggest?

  JOHN ROSS’ DECEPTION?

  During his initial push for a relief expedition, it was John Ross’ contention that he believed Franklin had intended to “put his ships into the drift ice at the western end of Cornwallis or Melville Island”2 [see map 8]. As Ross reminded the Admiralty: this was the same ice which had stopped Parry in his first extremely successful voyage and this supposed plan was precisely what Parry had decided should not be done at that time. But did Ross really believe this was what Franklin had intended?

  Map 8

  The Ice west of Melville Island?

  Franklin’s orders were explicit: he was to enter Lancaster Sound, then sail through Barrow Strait, “not to examine any channels leading northwards or southwards from Barrow Strait,” then, on reaching the longitude of Cape Walker (which was directly north of King William Island) he was to “steer to the southward and westward towards Bering Strait” by whatever path he could manage through whatever lands might lie in that unknown quarter.3 His orders said nothing about putting in the ice westward of Melville Island. Indeed, to even reach Melville Island Franklin would have had to travel considerably past Cape Walker.

  In fact, the very next clause in Franklin’s orders stated that, “This route offers the best prospect of discovering a North-West Passage because the ice seen at Cape Dundas, Melville Island appeared to be fixed and very heavy.” Either Ross believed Franklin had intended to disobey his orders even before leaving England or Ross was making the whole thing up—the only excuse he could think of to explain his desperate fear for the safety of the expedition.

  If it was merely a fabrication it was a good one, for it also gave him ammunition in battling his nemesis nephew.

  John Ross was outraged when he learned that the Admiralty’s sole response to the absence of any word from the expedition was to offer a twenty-thousand-pound reward to any whalers or members of the Hudson’s Bay Company wh
o might offer assistance to Franklin and his crew. He claimed such an “inefficient [tactic] must have been suggested by unworthy motives, for Sir [James] C. Ross is one of those officers who, in Parry’s expedition, was then of the opinion [that entering the ice westward of Melville Island] was imprudent”.4 Again, that odd word, “unworthy”. What possible motive could his nephew have had for purposely stalling the salvation of Franklin’s expedition?

  THE NAVY ACTS

  Still, not even the Royal Navy could stall forever. In January of 1848, while Franklin was spending his third winter lost in the Arctic, a ship by the name of Plover was dispatched to travel around Cape Horn into the Pacific Ocean and enter the Arctic from the opposite side. The Plover’s goal was to search along the northern coast of the continent in case Franklin had gotten that far.

  In March, a second expedition was dispatched, this one travelling overland, up the Mackenzie River to explore Victoria Land—a piece of ground located precisely in the southwest path that Franklin would have taken (had he truly been seeking a Northwest Passage), but known only by glimpses of its southern headlands.

  Finally, in June a third expedition was sent, this one to follow in Franklin’s tracks, entering the Arctic from the east. Though John Ross had advised the use of four small ships (since he had done so well with the tiny Victory), this expedition planned to search using two vessels, Enterprise and Investigator, both even larger than Franklin’s Erebus and Terror. John Ross was probably not surprised when he learned who would command the expedition. Having rescinded his former promise never to return north again, James Clark Ross now set out to rescue Franklin.

  JAMES CLARK ROSS TAKES HIS TIME

  James Ross’ official orders were extremely general. Historian (and Franklin descendant) Roderic Owen observed, “Their brief was so extensive as to be all but meaningless.”5 This was particularly odd, for enough trouble had already arisen interpreting Franklin’s specific orders; what would they have done if James Clark Ross had disappeared as well? It would seem the Admiralty wished to give John Ross’ nephew plenty of room to manoeuvre. And manoeuvre he did.

  Though he carried enough provisions for four years (three years for his crew and an extra for Franklin’s crew should he find them), upon reaching Greenland James Clark Ross abruptly sent back word that he would order the Investigator back to England if he found he had to spend even two winters in the Arctic. Things did not improve after that.

  The ships had been inexplicably late in the season before even setting out from England. After entering Baffin Bay, they were first towed through loose streams of ice, then hindered by light winds until, in the words of historian Samuel Schmucker, “the season had so far advanced as to preclude every hope of accomplishing much, if anything, before the setting in of winter.”6 Battling their way through the ice in Baffin Bay, Ross searched for signs of the lost expedition along the west coast of Greenland, then headed into Lancaster Sound [see map 9]. Running into heavy ice near Leopold Island at the entrance to Prince Regent Inlet, Ross decided to explore the north shores of Barrow Strait, travelling as far as Wellington Channel, before again being turned back by ice and finally managing to force his way into Port Leopold.

  Map 9

  James Clark Ross’s Search, 1848–1849

  It was James Clark Ross’ claim that “so great a quantity of ice was never before seen in Barrow’s Strait at this period of the season.”7 Perhaps, but Ross’ uncle later countered, “A witness . . . stated that on the 11th September, the day on which the ships entered the harbour, Regent Inlet was perfectly clear of ice.”8 Why then had James Clark Ross not tried to reach Fury Beach, where Parry’s provisions from the vanished Fury had already served to save the two Rosses? It was widely believed that Franklin, if beset southwest of Cape Walker, would surely try to reach the cache at Fury beach, hoping to hitch a ride with whalers in Barrow Strait just as John Ross had. James Clark Ross himself held to this theory. So why didn’t he continue on down Prince Regent Inlet? Once frozen in at Port Leopold, another winter would pass before Ross would get around to checking out Fury Beach by sled. If by chance the Franklin survivors had been there, they might easily have perished in the interim—a result that could hardly have endeared James Clark Ross to the anxiously awaiting public back home.

  FURY BEACH, SLEDS AND LEOPOLD MCCLINTOCK

  Once stuck at Port Leopold, nothing more could be done until the sun rose again in the spring. Perhaps significantly, James Clark Ross seemed oddly bothered by his final voyage to the Arctic. As Pierre Berton put it, “he was no longer the energetic officer who had enlivened the crew of his uncle’s Victory.”9 Clements Markham, who knew Ross, thought he was “somewhat shaken” by his explorations in the Antarctic.10 Possibly. But it had been after his voyage with his uncle to this same coastline and his visit to Victory Point that he had vowed never to come north again. Is it not more likely that he was “somewhat shaken” by something he saw on that expedition—something which continued to haunt his dreams all through the long, black winter months of his return?

  Ross was not entirely inactive during those winter months, however. The crew trapped foxes alive. Copper collars were fixed around the necks of these animals, bearing the locations of the ships and of caches of provisions placed along the coast. The foxes were then released in the hopes that Franklin’s crew might catch them for food. One suspects the procedure can hardly have been healthy for the unfortunate foxes.

  Finally, in April 1849 (Franklin now having spent four full winters in the Arctic, assuming he was even still alive), Ross set to work. With a party of thirteen men, he followed the north coast of Somerset, working his way westward. His reasoning seemed fair enough: as Franklin had been ordered to travel to Cape Walker and then turn southwest, Ross felt Cape Walker was the first place to check for a sign of the expedition. While Ross was away, Captain E.J. Bird, who was in charge of the sister ship Investigator, sent out three other expeditions: one to do what Ross should have done long ago—check the supply cache at Fury Beach. Since Ross was the commander of the expedition, it isn’t clear why Captain Bird should have been the one to dispatch the other search parties. Was Bird acting under Ross’ orders or was he acting on his own?

  Accompanying Ross on his overland search was an officer who would play an extremely pivotal role in the drama yet to unfold: Lieutenant Francis Leopold McClintock. In light of his later importance, it is ironic he was only on this voyage because he was friends with Ross’ friend William Smythe. But his presence on this sled trip with Ross immediately raises an important question: how much did McClintock know?

  Based on his later behaviour, there is every reason to believe McClintock was totally free of those “unworthy motives” which John Ross had imputed to so many others. If there was a conspiracy to keep Sir John Franklin from being found, it is unlikely McClintock was a party to it. But how then to explain his participation in this sledge trip? If the party had happened upon any messages left by the Franklin expedition, there could have been no way of keeping them hidden from McClintock—or could there?

  In his book, The Fate of Franklin, Roderic Owen described how, “The drill was for him [James Clark Ross] to walk along the shore some distance ahead, whilst Lieutenant McClintock led the sledges.”11 Had they happened upon any messages left in cairns by Franklin, it would have been a simple matter for Ross to conceal such messages before McClintock arrived with the rest of the party. And, if Ross had happened upon something too large to hide (bodies, for example), he could easily have returned to the sledge party and led them away from the site, under some quickly concocted excuse. The absence of messages left by the Franklin expedition would be a refrain heard again and again throughout the many years of searching. It was inconceivable that Franklin would not have left records behind to indicate where he planned to go, and yet, other than one record dropped in the ocean before reaching Greenland, the only message ever recovered was the note (actually two, but they were duplicates) left on King William Island at
the very end of their journey. Cairns were found, constructed by Franklin’s crew to hold messages, yet they were always found to be empty. Repeatedly the searchers would find themselves amazed and bewildered by this absence of messages, completely at a loss to explain it. But, they were not so suspicious as John Ross; it never occurred to them that someone might be deliberately stealing the messages.

  That season James Clark Ross and his party trudged westward across the north shore of Somerset Island. Or perhaps one should more properly say “struggled”: further suspicions must be aroused by Ross’ strange decision to use man-hauled sledges on this trip, rather than dogs, which he had employed with such success on his trip here aboard the Victory (including his journey to Victory Point). Expecting men to pull massive sledges across the ice and snow is not only much slower than using dogs, but it was also guaranteed to wear down the party’s strength much faster. It was almost as if James Clark Ross deliberately set out to limit the range of his explorations.